Barfight
by mercurymoon7490195
Summary: When it came down to it...  Thiefshipping, post-canon.


"Fuck." Their breath was ripping from their lungs by the time they finally stopped to look back. "Do you think we—"

"—Lost 'em," Bakura panted. "If they didn't turn back at the briar patch… then at least we'll see them coming." He stumbled through the stream bed to where their bags sat, hidden in a patch of brambles.

Marik took a step into the water, sinking to his knees and letting it wash over him. "This is all your fault." he muttered, stripping off his bloodied shirt. "If you hadn't gone all knife-crazy—"

"I saved your fucking life."

"I would have been fine. I could have handled him—"

Bakura scoffed. "Oh I don't doubt it," he said, grabbing the lantern from his bag. "It's not like he was double your size and ready to bash your head in."

"You stabbed him! Three times!" Marik dunked his head in the water spluttering as the frigid liquid hit the cut across his cheek. "We _can't_ be wanted for another murder, Bakura, not this soon."

"It wasn't fatal." Bakura grumbled, his face hidden in the shadows of the trees. He busied himself with the first aid kit, still muttering to himself. "No one touches you like that."

Marik sighed, rubbing his shoulder. They should never have gone into such a shady bar, he had quickly realized. Even if it had held the possibility of some pickpocket work, not to mention a drink….

…Some things were better just left alone.

_"One scotch, one beer," Marik said to the bartender, leaning against the counter. He and Bakura stood there in silence, keeping separate eyes on the bar and the tables beyond it. If there were anyone worth stealing from, they would find them. _

_The man behind the bar stared at them warily as he handed them their drinks, his eyes following the scotch as Marik slid it closer to Bakura. "You might want to finish those up and go," he murmured in a low voice. "See that guy over there?" He pointed to a large, bearded man, big enough to even dwarf Odion. "That's Slim Johnson…he don't take kindly to strangers in his bar."_

_Marik raised an eyebrow, looking him over. "I can see why they call him Slim," he muttered, sipping __his beer. "Thanks for the tip, but I think we'll stay."_

_The bartender shrugged. "I warned you," he said, hurrying away to cater to his other thirsty customers. Marik caught Bakura's eye, turning to face him. _

_The spirit shook his head, knocking back his scotch with a grimace. "Easier ways," he said quietly, eyeing a particularly well-off looking businessman snoring at the end of the counter. _

_"Watch my beer," Marik stood, brushing against the inebriated man as he made for the bathroom. His hand flitted in and out of his pocket faster than most would have noticed, depositing the wallet into his own pocket. He threaded through the crowd, ducking into the bathroom. The cash went into his pocket, a self confident smirk reflected in the grimy mirror. He left enough for one drink before making his way back to Bakura, dropping the wallet back in the drunk's pocket. _

_"Anything exciting happen while I was gone?" _

_Bakura's hand tightened on his knife, his eyes staring over Marik's shoulder. There was a scraping of chairs, the patrons hurriedly clearing the way for the owner of some very loud footsteps. _

_"Ahh," Marik murmured, finishing his drink. He felt a hand on his shoulder and gave the man a lazily glance. "Can I help you?"_

_Slim Johnson was a rather stupid looking fellow, up close. His beard had bits of food and drops of whiskey tangled in it, his eyes gazing beadily down at them. "Y' two aren't from here, are ya?" He asked, leaning heavily on Marik's shoulder. His cronies waited behind them, watching Marik with identical drunken grins. _

_Marik raised an eyebrow. "Very perceptive," he drawled, fiddling with his bottle. "Tell me, what do you think he should get for that 'Kura, an A for effort?"_

_He scowled down at the blond, His eyes narrowing to the point of almost disappearing behind his scraggly hair. "Ya think ya can barge int' my town, int' my bar and insult me?" _

_"I'm not barging into anywhere," Marik said. "We were passing through town, thought we'd get a drink, that's all." He slid the scotch glass back to the bartender and smiled up at him innocently. "Whether you make a fool of yourself or not isn't up to me at al—"_

_A thick hand shot out and grabbed him by the throat, shoving him up against the bar. In a flash Bakura was on his feet, his knife at the ready. "You have five seconds to put him down," he said coolly, __his voice echoing in the hush that had fallen over the bar. "Unless you want your next sleep to be an eternal one." _

_Marik glared at him, eyes glinting in the dim bar-light. Slim grinned maliciously, his hand tightening until Marik gasped painfully, his nails digging into the hammy fingers at his throat. Bakura smiled grimly and lunged. _

"Let me look at it," the spirit said, offering up the lantern against the dying light. Marik crawled up onto the bank, accepting the towel in his hand and wrapping it around his shoulders.

"It's not that bad," Marik said, holding out his arm. He winced as Bakura's fingers wrapped around it, inspecting the sluggishly bleeding cut.

"It won't need stitches," Bakura said. "And neither will that." He brushed a hand across Marik's cheek, wiping away a trickle of blood.

"I'm lucky," Marik murmured, looking on as Bakura wrapped a bandage around his arm. "This feels a little familiar, doesn't it?"

Bakura laughed. "Just a tad…a little reversed though."

"Yeah…" he smiled sadly, raising his fingers to Bakura's blackened eye. "You didn't exactly get out unscathed this time."

He pushed him away, standing up. "We should move," he said, gathering up their few belongings and tossing Marik his bag. "They saw us run in here, it'd be foolish to stay. We'll follow the river for awhile…"

Marik sighed, throwing his bag and bloody shirt over this shoulder. "No rest, huh." He said, following Bakura through the knee-deep water.

"Just a bit farther should be—" His foot came down on a loose stone, which slipped out from under him. He stumbled, catching himself on Marik's outstretched hand. "—Fine."

Marik chuckled. "You've been in that body too long," he remarked. "Your host's wearing off on you."

"Why you—!" With a splash, Marik was back in the water, laughing as he pulled Bakura in with him.


End file.
